


At First Sight

by Carenejeans



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Humor, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carenejeans/pseuds/Carenejeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was it love at first sight? Well, was it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	At First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to C.M. Decarnin for beta.

"So it was love at first sight." Methos sat next to Duncan with his knees spread wide, turning his beer bottle between his fingers. The bottle rested against his crotch. Duncan couldn't take his eyes from it.

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Hm. What you said _then_ was--" Methos looked calculatingly at Duncan and then hauled himself up off the couch. He held his beer bottle at arm's length and looked at it as if he'd never seen it before, then looked at Duncan wide-eyed. With a voice suddenly filled with awe, he breathed _"Methos!"_

 

Duncan stared at him for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "You're a terrible actor. Don't ham it up."

 

"And you looked so wonderfully smitten, too."

 

"Right, smitten," Duncan scoffed. "I was just-- surprised to find myself in the company of a legend, that's all."

 

"Legend, nothing. It was my pretty face."

 

Duncan snorted.

 

"And you fell ass over heels in love." Methos pointed his beer bottle at Duncan for emphasis. "With me. At first sight."

 

"You're pretty sure of yourself."

 

Methos just stood looking down at Duncan, his eyes glinting.

 

Duncan made as if to grab his beer. "You're crazy."

 

Methos stepped back. "Oh come, on MacLeod. The way you looked at me -- I _don't_ imagine you were thinking, 'The legendary Methos -- at my feet!'" Methos flung his arms out, a look of awed rapture on his face. He gazed in wonder at his beer bottle. "And he-- he offered me a beer!"

 

Duncan leaned back against the couch and grinned. "That was pretty much it, actually."

 

"Pshaw." Methos said, waving his beer bottle dismissively.

 

"Pshaw?"

 

"Pshaw. Phooey. Hogwash."

 

Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. "What was I thinking, then?"

 

Methos looked down at Duncan for a moment, then suddenly his posture and expression subtly changed. No ham acting now. For an instant, Duncan felt as if he were looking into a mirror. Methos's eyes burned with a strange mix of awe, surprise, and something else that made Duncan uncomfortable. Had he looked like that? Had he really been so transparent?

 

"Look at him," Methos narrated Duncan's supposed thoughts. "Is this what a legend looks like? Flung down at my feet like a gift, serene and smiling just as if there was no sword under his bed within easy reach--"

 

"There was a sword under your bed?" Duncan said, frowning.

 

"Of course there was a sword under my bed. I haven't lived this long without having a sword under my bed. Stop interrupting your train of thought."

 

"That wasn't my train of thought," Duncan said, a shade of stubbornness stealing into his voice.

 

"Where were you. Ah, yes." Again Duncan was uncomfortably struck by the mirror-image of himself in Methos's countenance. "A legend shouldn't look so delectable -- or have that look in his eyes, what can that mean? He knows my name. And the way he _says_ my name -- I wonder if he -- could he possibly --" Methos stopped. "What are you doing?"

 

Duncan continued making little circular hand motions in the air between them. "I'm drawing little hearts to go with your schoolgirl gushing," he said.

 

"I have that effect on you, don't I?" Before Duncan could protest, Methos had shifted back into his Duncan impersonation.

 

"What is it about that face?" Methos narrowed his eyes as Duncan muttered something under his breath. "They say if a man's nose is big," he continued smoothly, "then--" His eyes widened. "Good _god!_ The family jewels must be as big as--!" He put his hands on his hips and glared down at Duncan, who was laughing. "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

 

Duncan grinned. "I wonder just _who_ started that old saying."

 

"Someone very satisfied with a large-nosed man, I expect," Methos said, preening a bit. Duncan laughed again.

 

"Laugh all you like," he sniffed. "You can't pretend _you're_ not satisfied."

 

"Wouldn't dream of trying," Duncan said.

 

"I thought not." Methos closed his eyes. "So there you stood like a stunned ox. And you thought -- 'Aye, if such a venerable and legendary man were to look upon me with favor --'"

 

"I haven't thought in diction like that for two hundred years," Duncan drawled, rising from the couch to stand nose-to-suggestive-nose with Methos.

 

"--then I would be truly the luckiest man in' -- Hey!" Methos backed away as Duncan poked him sharply in the chest.

 

"Do you wanna hear what I was thinking? Hm? Well, I'll tell you." He gave Methos another push, backing him across the space from the couch to the bed.

 

Methos stopped and stood his ground. "I _know_ \--"

 

"Unh-uh," Duncan covered Methos's mouth with one hand and wagged a finger in Methos's face. Methos's eyes were smiling.

 

"I was thinking--" Duncan leaned close and put his lips to Methos's ear. He felt Methos tense under his touch, and smiled to himself. _"Idiot,"_ he whispered.

 

Methos pulled Duncan's hand away from his mouth. "What?"

 

"I said you're an idiot," Duncan gave Methos a shove, causing him to stumble backwards and then fall as the edge of the bed caught him on the back of his legs. Duncan went down with him, and on top of him.

 

Methos panted, struggling half-heartedly, his eyes bright with laughter and something else that made Duncan's throat go dry. He tugged the edge of Methos's sweater up over his chest, and Methos shifted his hips under him. Duncan pressed down, loving the familiar way their cocks moved together through their clothes. He leaned in for a kiss.

 

But Methos was still talking. "So when _did_ you fall in love with me, then? If it wasn't at first sight." Methos was smiling, but the amusement in his eyes was fading into something serious, almost anxious. Duncan kissed him lightly.

 

"Oh, it _was_ love at first sight," he admitted cheerfully.

 

"MacLeod!"

 

Duncan smiled at Methos's affronted expression. He kissed him again, and felt Methos strain upwards against him. He settled into Methos's arms and sighed into his neck as strong hands slid under his sweater and across his back.

 

He raised his head to look into Methos's eyes. "And when did you--"

 

"Culloden."

 

Duncan frowned. "Culloden? But--"

 

"When I read about it in your chronicle. As a Watcher." Methos smiled crookedly. "There was no glory at Culloden," he said, and Duncan felt his face tighten with remembered pain. Methos nodded as if to himself. "Yet there you were, with all your ideals of honor and duty wrapped around you like a warrior's shield, and bent upon revenge -- but not just revenge, after what was _right_. I knew then that you were just the sort of hopeless romantic who would be dangerous to me. If we ever met."

 

"And we did," Duncan said softly. They were both serious now. Methos ran a finger down Duncan's spine and he shivered.

 

"Yes, we did." Methos said. "And was I right? Look how you have me helpless."

 

"Right. Helpless."

 

Methos smiled at that, and Duncan smiled back. Then he frowned. "But you've never told me..." He trailed off.

 

"Haven't I?" Methos looked at him, then away. "Well, I -- do."

 

"Do what?" Duncan said gently.

 

Methos looked at him squarely. "Love you." Duncan's heart jumped. Methos pulled his hands from under Duncan's sweater and cupped his face. "Before we met, at first sight, and every day all over again."

 

Duncan's heart thudded in his chest. He looked into Methos's face and saw him again as he'd first seen him, sprawled on the floor, tossing him a beer and saying his name. So composed and so sure of himself, greeting him casually just as if he weren't already half in love. With him. At first sight. He smiled at Methos.

 

"That's the way of it," he agreed, and bent to kiss him again.

 

_-End-_


End file.
